


A Dream Come True

by Interrobam



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991)
Genre: Background Slash, Beards, Coming Out, Community: disney_kink, Happy Ending, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-11
Updated: 2012-07-11
Packaged: 2017-11-09 15:41:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Interrobam/pseuds/Interrobam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What do you know about my dreams, Gaston?”</p><p>     “Plenty!” He waved his hand dismissively, hunching over the desk, his eyes dancing “Picture it Belle, a rustic hunting lodge, my latest kill roasting on the fire. I relax by the crackling blaze, my boots disposed on the rug and my lovely LeFou massaging my feet, while the little ones play on the floor with the dogs. We'll have six or seven.” He smiled at her, eyebrows at their peak. She looked back with shock.</p><p>     “LeFou?”</p><p>     “What? No, sons. Strapping young men like... like...” His face fell like a tragic mask, he buried it in his massive hands. “I said LeFou, didn't I?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Dream Come True

**Author's Note:**

> Content Notes: Contains brief mentions of homophobia, including internalized.
> 
> Written for the Disney Animated Kink Meme. I had a lot of fun writing a “coming out” story Gaston style, meaning with much hamminess and ego.

He came into the house, a bear of a man, dressed in his red coat and arrogant smile, as soon as the door came ajar. Belle was quick to back away, trying to make light of the situation.

“Gaston. What a... pleasant surprise.”

“Oh, I'm just full of surprises.” He laughed, dismissing the caution in her tone “You know Belle, there's not a soul in France who wouldn't love to be in your shoes. This is the day...” he trailed off, spotting his face in the bureau and making a point of inspecting his teeth. Belle looked furtively at the windows and doors: possible escape routes. “This is the day,” Gaston, assured the cleanliness of his teeth, continued as he spread his arms wide “, our dreams come true.” Belle laughed, edging behind her desk.

“What do you know about my dreams, Gaston?”

“Plenty!” He waved his hand dismissively, hunching over the desk, his eyes dancing “Here, picture this. The setting is a rustic hunting lodge, somewhere in the forest, by a lake. It's early winter, with a nice crisp chill in the air that just serves to make the warmth of the fire more satisfying. My latest kill is roasting on the fire, my past trophies covering the walls with my legend. I relax by the crackling blaze, my boots disposed on the rug and my lovely LeFou massaging my feet, while the little ones play on the floor with the dogs. We'll have six or seven.” He smiled at her, eyebrows at their peak. She looked back with shock.

“LeFou?”

“What? No, sons. Strapping young men like... like...” His face fell like a tragic mask, he buried it in his massive hands. “I said LeFou, didn't I?”

“Well...” Belle cased the points of escape in a brief, covert glance “Yes.” For a long time Gaston was silent, and Belle allowed herself to relax.

“Oh Belle!” Gaston shouted so suddenly and with such pained passion that she jumped three inches off the floor purely on instinct. He followed this exclamation with a howl, like something out of a wounded animal, raising his head to the ceiling and clawing at his chiseled cheekbones. “I cannot live this way.” He folded his arms and sobbed bodily onto the surface of the desk and, to Belle's horror, the pages of her book. Part of her wanted to take advantage of the open window nearby, but the rest of her knew what the heroines in her books would do, the rest of her knew what was right. She laid her hand upon his shoulder, rubbing it self consciously.

“Gaston, is something the matter?” The hunter merely loosed a muffled howl, following it up with a snort that spelled mucous all over her story. Belle cringed in horror. She simply had to resolve his bad humor: if not for him, for the book she so dearly wanted to come out of this calamity in readable condition “Now Gaston, you can tell me. What's wrong?”

“Oh Belle, you could not understand! I can barely understand it myself.” He raised his head up from the now rather soggy climax of the fifth chapter “The torment of my soul, it consumes me!”

“Don't be silly now.” Belle tried mightily to keep her voice soft, reaching delicately for her book.

“It's the truth I speak!” He spread his hands wide, she took the opportunity to grab her novel and press it to the shelter of her chest. “Belle, I know you won't enjoy hearing this, but I beg you for your understanding.”

“Mmhm.” Belle nodded, glancing forlornly at the wrinkled pages pressed against her blouse. 

“I cannot make your dreams of wifely submission come true. I...” his eyes were deep and full of sorrow “...do not love you.” Belle tried, she did, but the laugh came out before she could stifle it and she ended up doubled over, hand over mouth, shaking with giggles. Gaston watched her with a resignation.

“Sob if you wish. I cannot change my heart.” This only made it worse for Belle. Her giggles had turned into some sort of self-perpetuating snort, and every time she tried to compose herself the laughter again rose in her throat and left her dizzy. After a minute or two she was down to a few strangled tremors, dabbing her eyes with the kerchief Gaston had handed her.

“Oh- he he- Oh Gaston, don't you worry about my feelings. I'm perfectly alright living the life of a bachelorette.” She turned to him bodily, placing her hand upon his massive shoulder. “Tell me, who's the lucky girl?” Gaston's face fell even further, if that was possible, and he looked away so that the veins of his neck bulged.

“Not a lucky girl.” He bemoaned, shoulders hunched with sorrow.

“Oh?” Belle cocked her head, curious.

“The person who has my heart is... a man.” Belle's eyes widened, as did her smile. Oh my! This was just like that book she read at night when her father was asleep. The one where the men were kissing. She clasped her hands eagerly.

“Oh goodness! Who? How old is he? Does he live in the village? Is he married? Is he handsome? Does he have a mustache? Is he foreign? Did you go into ' the quiet safety of a forest glen on the bloom of summer' and 'read with your wet tongues the sacred language of each other's-'” Suddenly, it struck her. “No, wait... before you said...LeFou?” She cocked her brow. “...Really?” Gaston righted his neck in order to better pull at his luxurious hair. 

“Indeed it is him. It could only be him.” Belle blinked. If she had to imagine Gaston's perfect lover, it would be someone strong, hairy, and flamboyant like him. LeFou wasn't entirely unpleasant, but he was very short and rather dumpy. Really, the only thing Belle could see that would make him attractive to Gaston was the fact that the smaller man was the only villager who believe that Gaston was as great as he himself thought he was. In fact, LeFou seemed to worship... the very ground... that Gaston... oh.

“I understand.” She nodded as evenly as she could. “He's perfect for you.”

“But the villagers, they expect me to wed, and if I chose one of the triplets, the girl would anticipate certain... things. I thought maybe, with you, I wouldn't have to...” He gave out a snort that could attract oxen, and she handed him his kerchief back. “If news got out, if they were suspicious of me...” He shuddered, and Belle felt a well of sympathy for his pain. “Oh, but look at me babbling now. To you, a girl who will no doubt revenge my shattering of your heart by telling all the village of my dark needs. Oh, why must I cause every woman I see to fall madly in love with me?” He howled to the stars, miserable. Belle's sympathy began drying up at the edges. Yet it _was_ true that marrying Gaston would take the pressure off of her to find someone and settle down. It would mean security for her father, maybe money for books, or even the chance to set out on her own adventure. Now that the various... disadvantages were out of the picture, she could see many benefits to marrying Gaston. An idea sparked in her mind.

“Now Gaston, not only will I not do such a thing to you, I know a way to help us both.” Gaston blew his nose into the kerchief.

“What?”

“What if we wed, bu-”

“Belle! Curse your womanly, serpentine lusts! No amount of begging will change me. I am doomed to-”

“Gaston.” the hunter glanced over at Belle, who's face was not one of a woman who suffered foolishness lightly. “I have no interest in your heart. I simply propose that we carry out a false marriage. We will pretend to be very much in love when we come into the village, but alone we will have our own separate lives, our own separate lovers.”

“You mean... a marriage in name only?” Belle nodded “Without physical or emotional devotion to each other?” He was met with another nod. “And we would at the same time create our own lives with those that we love most dearly and truly?

“Gaston. Yes or no?” The hunter looked at Belle for a long moment, then gazed longingly at his kerchief. Belle could only surmise that it reminded him of his servant. He lifted one muscled hand skywards, before slamming in to the desk with a loud clap, a grin spread over his face.

“Of course!”

“Now,” Belle began, placing her book gently on the seat of a chair “, we need only to-”

“Take my hand Belle.” The girl looked up, surprised, but complied with the request. She felt as if the wind was being knocked out of her body as he lifted her into his arms.

“Gaston, what are you-” In three strides he was to the door, and with a kick it was nearly off its hinges. Belle watched in fascination and a touch of horror as an entire wedding party met her eyes. LeFou, at Gaston's wink, prompted the band to play.

“Hear those wedding bells?” Gaston bellowed, his jaw set, his eyes still red from crying “It's like a dream come true.”


End file.
